Holiday
by notpoetry
Summary: After the events of 'Future' and 'Gone', don't you think Hermione and George deserve a holiday? Highly recommend reading both Future and Gone before reading Holiday.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Takes place after the events of both Future and Gone. I highly recommend reading both so the story makes sense. Gone worked as a standalone however this most likely will not. This also shouldn't be as emotionally heavy as both of those stories, but who knows anymore, right? (jk its Hermione and George going on holiday its fun times all round).

* * *

"If I told you that you'd have to spend the rest of your life in Luxembourg, London, or Launceston, which would you pick?"

"What sort of question is that?"

"A desperate one?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at George over the top of her book. Usually she had to work her way inside his head to get to the bottom of his plans but this morning he was presenting them on a silver platter.

"Well?" George asked impatiently. Her eyes narrowed until she could only see him through slits while he chugged his pumpkin juice without averting his gaze.

Giving into his game for a moment, Hermione considered the options. "Well, Luxembourg has quite the history, it would be brilliant to see all the architecture castles and everything else; plus my French would come in handy even though I haven't practised it in too long. Can I travel out of the city or am I stuck there permanently?"

"It would be like a new home, you could travel or whatever you wanted to but within reason. No living here for seven months out of the year but using the new place as your billing address." George commented.

"In that case Launceston would be lovely seeing as it's the closest to my parents, but I'd still have to use a portkey or two, the distance is too far to Apparate to Brisbane. Why did you pick Launceston?"

George grinned sheepishly. "I couldn't think of anywhere else that started with L."

She shook her head as she put her bookmark in her textbook and closed it on the kitchen table. "I don't really know what's in Launceston, I'd have to research it."

"But it would be close to your parents." he pointed out.

"I'm almost twenty-three, George, I don't need to be very close to my parents. I hadn't been living at home since I was eleven either, they're used to me not being around." She didn't mean to let the tinge of sadness enter her voice, but she shook it off easily. "I don't think I'd want to be in London forever, you know? I don't mind living in a flat off Diagon Alley, but it's really not where I picture myself in five years' time."

George nodded as he wordlessly summoned their breakfast dishes to her sink. Her little flat had been transformed into Hermione's personal heaven – her own private study. She'd moved into the flat above the shop with George nearly two years ago now and had been granted permission to keep the flat for her studies by the Ministry. 'Granted permission' wasn't the right phrase really, they'd practically forced Hermione to keep the extra place while she continued with her pioneer work into magical children's development and early learning. Hermione had argued with everyone on the ladder until she'd eventually gotten to Shacklebolt who politely explained that it, along with the War pension or whatever you wanted to call it, was hers until she either finished her studies and began full time work with a reasonable salary or was married and working/living off a large enough income for her and her husband. She'd been furious with that line of reasoning until Shacklebolt – again, calmly – explained that it was how things had been since just after the first battle that the Ministry had been involved in almost a millennium ago and that they were more than happy to continue supporting those who'd played major roles in the Order.

So here they were, Hermione and George, sitting around her rarely used kitchen table at seven thirty in the morning. George had Floo'd in at midnight to find Hermione slumped over her desk – a habit she was trying to break – and had carried her into her old bed they'd never gotten rid of. It had served them well on nights like that and Hermione was grateful that George could stay the night without the problem of getting to work on time or not being able to be found in an emergency.

"So the answer would be Luxembourg?" George confirmed. "Because of the history and architecture?"

"And Launceston second."

George rose from his seat and stood behind her, circling his muscled arms around her shoulders tightly and kissing her temple. "Don't bring me lunch today, love; I've given Ron and Daniel extended lunch breaks to make up for that week I was away."

"You're booking things, aren't you?" Hermione asked with a tilted head and a sly smile.

George tightened his grip and kissed her again. "Can't get anything around you, smarty-pants. Can you afford a bit of time off in two weeks?"

"Two weeks? Our anniversary is in two months, just save it for then." she said.

"But you don't like celebrating our anniversary." he replied as he rested his cheek on her head.

"When has that stopped you?"

"Touché." George laughed as he kissed his way down to her neck. "We can go away then too, but I want to take you away now; you deserve it."

"I haven't done anything, George."

"You've been studying your lovely arse off and that deserves a reward, plus you've been working nonstop ever since the…"

George faltered over the last few words. Even though they'd said everything that needed to be said about her miscarriage three weeks ago it was still an (understandably) uncomfortable topic.

"The study's been a good distraction." she admitted.

George brightened at that. "A distraction you say? I know just the thing; how does Luxembourg sound?"

Hermione laughed and shook her head, well aware that she was tickling him with her flyaway hairs. He blew up at them to give himself some breathing room and resettled his chin on her shoulder. "Here or home tonight?"

"Home." She said as he kissed her neck a final time and stepped away from her. With his twinkling wave (she hated to be kissed when she still had morning breath) he Apparated out of the tiny kitchen, leaving a sighing Hermione staring wistfully out the window. A holiday sounded good right about now.

* * *

A/N: Short chapter yes but the others will be much longer. Very excited for the happy times for the two of them to start rolling in, PLUS I've already got an idea for the (most likely) last installment to the _Future_ series before I move onto the something else I already have planned. Let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: My idea for a threeshot? Now a fiveshot. Enjoy part two.

* * *

It had been two weeks since George had proposed a holiday. Two long, uneventful weeks in which her studies had been constantly interrupted by daydreams of faraway places and exciting new people. Two weeks of radio silence from George about the trip he was planning for the two of them, two weeks and not one word of where they were actually heading.

Hermione hated to admit it but it was driving her mad. These past few years she'd had control over pretty much everything in her life, a far cry from the chaos at Hogwarts that often made her want to rip her hair out. Her relationship with George was brilliant; as much as she hated to admit she compared the two, he was a lot more mature than Ron had been when they'd given the two of them a shot. When they had heated discussions she wasn't always interrupted by "yeah, but" or "nah, actually"; George let her speak her mind before giving her his perspective. It was something Hermione could deal with in her best friend, but not something she could come home to every night.

She was proud of the way she managed her finances these days too, primarily when she had to let George take over in a lot of situations. When he'd offered for them to redecorate his home above the shop after she'd moved in she'd had to swallow her pride. Her mother and father had raised her to be as independent as possible - relying on someone else to foot the bill because her measly pension couldn't afford new homeware tested her ability to keep quiet. She had stopped suggesting transfiguring his old possessions into their new furniture when he'd pointed out quite loudly that it wasn't safe to do that as "it might transfigure back when we're shagging on it" to the shop owner. She hadn't let that embarrassment fade away without a fight at home, but instead of arguing back George promised her that she could approve the price of anything and everything she wanted. Hermione had been touched that he could tell what the underlying issue was before she could articulate it to herself and had even allowed for some of the brighter colours he wanted to be mixed in with their purchases. It had been a learning curve for the both of them, but their new furnishings and mutual understandings had made them stronger.

Hermione had fallen in love with her studies again as well. Being able to choose what she studied, how she'd measure her progress, and having few time restrictions took her back to her first year of Hogwarts, before that darned troll and Harry and Ron's friendship. Back then she had been studying in the library as often as she could, exploring every avenue that piqued her interest as a newly discovered witch. Back then she'd also had the nagging thought that half this information wouldn't be relevant to her studies at all and she was wasting valuable time. Nowadays that thought was gone, but her time management skills had improved vastly. Shacklebolt and the Magical Education's funding of her studies gave her enough spending money for both magical and muggle books on children and their development, and they had been neatly destroyed as the years went on with her sticky notes and dog eared pages covered in colour coded highlighting. Thank Merlin that the Department was interested in her work, otherwise she would've had to attempt to duplicate a lot of books from libraries.

She also had to assess her own stress levels and decide when enough was enough. That was a downside to self-study, no predetermined holidays. She'd pretty much studied nonstop during her first year, but the stress of only having sporadic days off when George insisted or when Teddy needed a babysitter gave her a lot of fatigue that couldn't be fought off with coffee or an extra hour of sleep. George had had to fire his assistant for giving away their products to his family and friends when he realised his anti-theft wards hadn't picked up on about one hundred and forty galleons worth of stock walking out the door. She'd told him years ago that working for him would be a last resort type of job for her, but she'd offered to take some shifts at the register during the summer holiday when George had gone on a tirade about not being able to trust random hires. George and Ron had been thankful during those two months for the extra help, but Hermione saw it as a time to reset her brain even though she was surrounded by chaos. She could observe the younger children with their parents and use them as studies, coming up with idea she wrote down in a journal so she wouldn't forget but wouldn't stew over when she was manning their register either.

Hermione had increased her shifts over the rest of the school holidays too, taking a week off from her studies completely before each break to relax her mind and to pursue other interests. After the first summer holidays George had been so thankful that he'd taken her to Brisbane to see her parents for the first time in eighteen months. It was also the first time her parents had met George without Fred, and most importantly, as her boyfriend. She preferred calling George her partner, but he'd eagerly insist on calling her his girlfriend, although in recent months she'd heard George refer to her as his "future fiancée". Not that she'd ever let him know she'd heard it, of course. She didn't want to ruin his plans.

She'd sort of already done that though, hadn't she? That day she'd been at St. Mungo's and discovered that her painful cramps had turned out to be her body going though a miscarriage had been a horrible, wretched day, but his slip up had given her something to hold onto. She sighed as she slid down further into her plump desk chair, staring out the window. Ever since then her mind would go into overdrive if George did something romantic. He'd brought flowers home the other night and Hermione was sure he was going to plonk down on one knee in front of her, but he'd given her a peck on the cheek instead and told her that her cooking smelled good. Three weeks ago he'd woken her up to breakfast in bed and she was sure she'd accidentally bite into an engagement ring, but he'd apologised that he had to work on their forty-month anniversary even though he knew she wouldn't celebrate it.

The worst incident was last week at the Weasley clan dinner. George had wandered off into the kitchen when she was reading Teddy and Lily a story before they headed home for the night. Only Molly had been in the kitchen and he showed no sign of coming back into the living room, so when little Lily requested some milk Hermione shot off to get it for her. She'd stood just out of sight of both the kitchen and the living room for a moment, trying to get a read on the conversation happening inside the kitchen, but unbeknownst to her Teddy had followed her. Any chance she had of stealthily overhearing a snippet was ruined when the six year old loudly asked her why she was hiding. Unfortunately George and Molly had heard and leant around the counter to see who Teddy was talking to before she could compose herself, and she asked for a cup of milk for Lily. When Molly had turned around to organise it George had sent her a beam that said he knew exactly what she was up to, and she could barely get a word out for the rest of the night in her mortification. Her defence that she hated surprises was true, but she knew how rude it was to try and overhear George's plans. Thankfully George had understood without saying anything, but she vowed never to try and figure out his plans again.

That was her choice in the end, not pressuring George or trying to snoop like she usually did. It was a character flaw, she knew, but she was working on it. But why did it have to be so damn hard? She sunk lower into her desk chair and sighed as her view of the neighbourhood below became hidden by the ledge. She didn't even know which conversation she wanted to overhear at the Burrow. On one hand, she was quite certain George was seriously considering asking her to marry him and the thought made her heart flutter. There was no doubt in her mind that she'd say no at this point, they'd been officially living together for two years at this point and had practically been inseparable since they were writing their book. They'd been proper friends since the end of the War, when George became a person to her rather than one of Ron's two most annoying brothers. She knew him pretty well from their colourful history and there were no secrets between them. The only problem she could think of when she considered getting married was the media circus that would follow for a few weeks afterwards, she knew that from Harry and Ginny's wedding and the birth of Lily.

She sighed again and stood up, stretching her arms over her head before closing all her books and putting them on their respective shelves. The school term had started up again just three weeks ago and she couldn't justify taking a big break from her studies like she had then, but the lingering thought of going on a proper vacation was suffocating her studious mind. There was no point working anymore tonight, the shop would be closed in a half hour and she could get a start on the prep work for dinner, even though George had insisted on cooking that morning. She wiped at her eyes to try and wake herself up before taking the Floo home.

She stepped through to their home and smiled at the magenta robes hanging at the door. George had beaten her home. She called out towards the kitchen that she was home and headed towards their bedroom, but the door was uncharacteristically closed. She rapped her knuckles on the door.

"Occupied!" called George from the other side. "Don't come in!"

His voice gave her pause. It had the tone that she'd come to love and hate, a tone that said he'd either done something she'd really love or she'd really hate. Usually it was George trying to get rid of all evidence of something (most of the time it was failed experiments), but other times it would be new flowers to decorate their room and a large, fluffy towel to use after they shared a dip in the bath he'd Expanded years ago. Merlin, she hoped today was a fluffy towel day.

"There's veggies on the counter, would you mind peeling and cutting for me?" George called out through the door as she heard what sounded like drawers opening and closing rapidly.

"I need to take my vitamins." she called back. Even though the Healer had confirmed that her miscarriage hadn't been due to any wrongdoings on her part he still recommended taking folic acid and vitamin D supplements daily, and she'd taken them religiously ever since.

"Oh shit, your vitamins! Love, I'll remind you to take them after dinner, I promise. You'll have a fit if you see this mess, so let's avoid that, yeah?" George pleaded.

"As long as it's cleaned by dinner." she sighed. She wasn't truly annoyed, George was relatively good at cleaning up after himself. Usually.

"Thanks love! Love you!"

She was just about to reply when she heard a bunch of metal clothes hangers either fall or crash into each other violently. She shook her head to herself instead and went to cut vegetables.

* * *

"Alright, I'm ready to chef." George said as he rubbed his hands together in the kitchen.

Hermione finished cutting the rest of the carrots and watched him spin around the kitchen looking for whatever he needed. His mood was catchy and she considered bringing the portable radio into the kitchen, but she was too on edge to do it. She was a know-it-all through and through, but it was her way of making sure the world wasn't collapsing in on itself again. Not knowing why George was in such a dancing mood was not what constituted a great Thursday night.

Her developing gloominess was halted when George took the knife out of her hand and spun her under his arm, letting her wild curls create a halo around her head with the movement. He gathered her up in his arms and started the pair of them back and forth while the vegetables roasted in the oven.

Hermione proper her chin on George's chest, looking up at him as he continued to sway them. His hair was still tied at the nape of his neck from work, loose enough to cover the space when his ear used to be. His eyes were closed in contentment and a small smile played at his lips, letting her know he was well aware of what she was doing.

"You'll find out after dinner." he said without opening his eyes. Hermione opened her mouth to say that that wasn't why she was looking at him, but it was, so she shut it again. George must've felt the movements and he let out a silent laugh as he squeezed her tighter. "I'm driving you mad, aren't I?"

"When don't you?" she mumbled sarcastically into his chest as she turned her head away. His laugh was short and loud that time and he kissed the top of her head.

"Go relax or something, I've got dinner covered." George insisted as he let go of her and nudged her out of the kitchen.

"How am I supposed to relax when I can't even focus?" Hermione questioned.

"Why can't you focus?" George said with too much concern.

He was having her on but knowing that fact didn't stop her. "I haven't been able to focus in weeks! Every time I sit down with my books or my notes or my ideas I always think, 'I bet the weather is nicer in Luxembourg or Lithuania or Greece, or, or Sydney!' You know I don't like surprises as much as you."

George leant against the archway to the kitchen "You don't like not being in control, love. And that's okay, it's perfectly fine, but give it about an hour and you'll find out what's going on, okay?"

"What if I don't like it?" she challenged.

"When have I ever done something you don't like?" George thought about that twice. "Done something on purpose, that is."

She shrugged heavily as she fought back a sigh. An hour. That's all it would take. She needed to let George have his fun, and then she'd find out whatever was going on, and then she'd be good. Just one more hour.

George stepped away from the archway and cupped both of her cheeks in his hands. With a quick but passionate kiss against her lips and another one to her forehead, he sent her off while he cooked.

Well, at least he cooked, right?

* * *

"What else do you think it could be?"

She didn't like to think it, but she was about to sock George in the eye. He'd never been this infuriating before, he'd never truly tried to rouse her up. Maybe he'd been remembering all her bossy and can't-let-go attitude during her fifth year on those occasions, but tonight he was absolutely shocking. He'd asked her to guess her surprise at least thirteen times over dinner, a dinner that was constantly shaking due to George's foot tapping on the ground throughout the meal. He was as excitable as a puppy sometimes and Hermione was sure he was going to leave a puddle on the ground at any minute.

"If you ask me that question one more time, I'll hex your other ear off." she told him as she dried the last of the dishes and banished them to their rightful places.

"But look, everything's done! You can find out now!" George practically squealed with glee.

"Actually, George…I'm pretty tired. How about we work it all out tomorrow?" she said as she rolled her shoulders as if they were aching from a long day of doing nothing.

George's mood was not deterred. "Hermione Jean Granger, you're the worst liar I've ever met, even worse than Dad when Mum found out the car could fly. Go take your vitamins and I'll meet you in the living room, yeah?"

Hermione shot him a glare but headed towards their bedroom anyway. If it was still a mess she'd…

Her suitcase was out.

Her old beaded bag was on top of it.

Her toiletries bag was empty and on the bed.

It was finally happening.

"We leave tomorrow morning."

Hermione spun around so quickly to face George that the end of her braid smacked her on the cheek. "Tomorrow?"

"Yep. The next two weeks are the only times you're relatively free for months. Thought I'd sneak it in, celebrate our anniversary a lit- oomph!"

George's words were cut off as she flung her arms around his neck. Tomorrow! She wouldn't have to wait a week leave like she thought she would, they were leaving in less than twenty-four hours! She squeezed George tighter in excitement. Who needed composure when they were about to travel?

"Calm down love, you don't even know where we're going yet." George said even though he held her just as tight. "Any guesses?"

"Does it matter? Two whole weeks of you and I travelling, as long as it's relatively warm I don't care where it is."

"How does end of summer sound?" George asked.

"Sounds wonderful, George. But that would mean it's in the southern hemisphere, so it's either Australia or South America. Which one is it?"

"Why wouldn't it be Africa?"

"Because you've already been to Egypt and you want to travel somewhere you've never been before. You've only left Great Britain what, twice?"

He leant down and kissed her forehead. "You know me too well. So which do you think, South America or Sydney?"

"Don't you mean Australia?" Hermione asked with a grin. He was such an idiot.

"Yeah, South America or…fucking hell." George swore as he realised his mistake, but instead of admonishing him for swearing like she usually would, she tugged at his neck with the arms still wrapped around it and kissed him deeply. She shouldn't have gotten so worked up about not knowing what was going to happen, she should've trusted George to take charge as well as she could. She tried to convey her apology through her kiss and hoped that he would accept it.

"I really love you." Hermione told him as they parted for air. His forehead rested against hers and she could feel his hot breath on her nose through his smile.

"I really love you too. I take it Sydney sounds good?"

"Sydney sounds amazing." she breathed as she moved her head back to look at him properly. "What happened to Luxembourg?"

"Luxembourg was a sham. I just needed three random places for you to tell me what wanted to do." George explained with an air of smugness. "I sent a letter to Hannah and Neville explaining that I was whisking you away on a romantic getaway and could they pretty please postpone your lunch together, so technically your calendar is completely free for two weeks. All you have to do is pack your toiletries and get a good night's sleep, and then we'll portkey our way to Mumbai, have a break for an hour, then take another portkey to Sydney. Shouldn't take more than two hours."

Hermione blinked as the information sunk in. Two weeks in Sydney, at the end of their summer. For a relatively surprise trip it was perfect – warm beaches, a culture and language she understood, and famous places to visit while they relaxed.

"It sounds perfect." she said in awe.

"We need to be at the Portkey Office by nine tomorrow, but other than that there's nothing you need to take care of. I've even made a basic itinerary for your perusal but you can't have it until we're there; you'll be up all night reading it otherwise."

Hermione felt her cheeks heat up slightly. He didn't mean anything by it, but it was the first thought that crossed her mind when she heard the word.

The arms around her waist tightened as he kissed her teasingly, knowing exactly what she was thinking. A strange feeling hit her sometimes when she considered who she was dating after all the rumours she'd heard and dreams she'd had, but her life at the moment was as close to perfect as she could hope for. It was times like this that made her want to stand on her toes and snog him while playing with his hair, but that was most certainly lead to…other activities that would tire her out before their trip even began. She still had things to do like make sure George had packed everything she'd need and get rid of food that would go off when th-

Hermione shivered as George's lips kissed their way to her neck, leaving behind a trail of suggestive promises and guarantees of bliss. She tried to resist, to give him a list of things that needed to be done by the time they left, but it was hopeless. He was walking towards their bed, and with her standing in his way and unwilling to let go, she let herself be pushed against him until the backs of her knees hit the mattress. She didn't fall onto it like he probably expected her to, but she did have to keep her arms around his neck to stop herself from doing so.

"We've got stuff to do." Hermione whispered. It sounded so unconvincing but it was a last ditch attempt. She didn't know why she was so reluctant, really; she wanted to jump into bed with him as much as he evidently wanted to.

He pushed his 'evidence' against her as his teeth nicked her collarbone. George had learnt very early on in their blossoming relationship that doing anything remotely close to that area, particularly the hollow between her neck and her shoulder, would get her to agree to almost anything. Right now he was using that to his advantage and she didn't mind at all. "There's only one thing I've got to do." he whispered into the crook of her neck.

Hermione tensed up immediately at his words, trying to control herself. It failed miserably as her burst of laughter echoed in the room. "That was the worst line I've ever heard." she said through a fit of bubbly giggles, shaking against him as he joined the laughter.

"You'll need to prepare yourself for our trip then, love. I've got a whole lot more where that came from." George said with a wink. She smiled brightly up at him and he pushed against her, Hermione finally falling onto the mattress in a tangle with George's limbs as he resumed his exploration of her body.

This was going to be a fun holiday.

* * *

A/N: No idea where that last bit came from. Hope you enjoyed. Up next is Sydney, but reviews are honestly a great motivation. Even if you don't review this, try and review someone/something else, there's few better feelings than being appreciated.


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